


Temporary

by paris7hilton



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Alpha Harry, Alpha Taylor Swift, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bloodplay, Gender Dysphoria, Humiliation, Impact Play, Other, Pregnancy Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 14:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paris7hilton/pseuds/paris7hilton
Summary: Harry wants to be a pregnant omega. Taylor is an alpha who likes to humiliate. They give each other a little of what they want, if only temporarily.





	Temporary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vondrostes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vondrostes/gifts).



> for one of my favorite alphas <3
> 
> DISCLAIMER when i say pups i don't mean literal puppies! even freaks like me gotta draw a line somewhere. full offense

A sharp tone pulls Taylor from her thought. The devil herself. She answers the phone.

“Yes?”

“... You picked up fast.”

“Yeah.” Silence on the other end, but she doesn’t push. For Harry to be calling, it must be important. It’s rare for him to be the initiator in their dynamic. Finally, he speaks.

“I was thinking. Maybe we could do that thing we talked about before.”

“Mm.” Taylor leans her head over to shoulder the phone and resumes scrolling over photo details blown up on her laptop screen. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I’m… Actually in public right now.”

“So am I.” she shoots back easily. He lets out a little sigh.

“You know, the thing with me… and the…” his voice is cutting out where he’s speaking too low, mumbling. Trying not to be heard.

“The what?” she sits up in bed a little.

“The panties!”

“Oh. The panties.” Taylor lets the sadist in her add extra lilt, knowing he’s probably blushing at his own outburst. “But Harry, we’re not dating anymore.” He doesn’t respond, but she knows what he’s thinking. That had never stopped them before. “Let me be more specific: I have a girlfriend now.”

“Oh. That’s awesome--”

“But actually, this is convenient for me.”

“Convenient?”

“My girlfriend, she’s an omega, see? And she’s going into her heat.” Another lie. She’s a beta, but he doesn’t need to know that. “She’s so worried about me knocking her up that she actually banned me from seeing her this week. Can you believe that?”

“She… She could always use suppressants…”

“Mm, no, she can’t.”

“C-Condom?”

Taylor has to hold back giggles. He’s taking the bait right out of her hands, like always. Taylor wonders if it’s still considered bait if what the fish actually wants is the hook. “Harry, really? Me? Using a condom? C’mon.”

“Yeah…” Is that resentment in his voice? Fucker.

“Anyways, Harry, what I’m saying is, thinking about my sweet little omega empty and in heat is making me kind of frustrated. Might even have started my rut. Think you can help me with that?” Taylor can hear the voices of other people in the background and it spurs her on. “Be my omega girlfriend for a while?" Taylor thinks Harry’s breathing has gotten a little more ragged, but she can’t be sure. "Let me fuck you, breed you until you’re heavy with my litter?”

“When?” Too easy.

“In five days.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then?”

“See you then. Bye, now.” She hangs up and returns to what she’s doing online. The part about her rut coming on isn’t a lie, and her beta girlfriend has politely declined the invitation after admitting to being intimidated by the idea.

What’s difficult is Taylor’s workload has been heavier than usual this past month, and pushing a deadline. Due to her circumstances she needs someone she can trust implicitly, who knows how to handle her during the rut haze. She’s tried picking up partners in the past, but what she’s looking for in a rut partner isn’t easy to find in most people.

But Harry isn’t most people, always taking everything Taylor’s been able to give. Sometimes begging for more.

Taylor orders the first decently sized bottle of omega enhancement oil she sees. Usually not recommended for alpha use, but it’s not like it’s going to kill him.  
\---  
Taylor is famously controlled during her rut. She’s even made (somewhat scandalous) public appearances during it. It isn’t that she has a high haze threshold, or that she’s impervious to the effects of alpha hormones (Harry’s seen the way Taylor stands protectively between crowds and her omega friends.) More like-- rut doubles alpha’s natural desires. If what Taylor naturally wanted was to senselessly breed omegas, she would have bred hundreds by now.

Harry pulls himself up from where he’s laying on the floor and musses a hand in his long hair. He arches his back delicately and takes another pic with his phone in the floor-length mirror. Not quite. He tries again, this time leaning forward slightly to reveal sheer, pink panties hugging his crotch and ass.

What Taylor really wants, Harry knows, is control. Total power over others.

This is the shot. The idea of sending it to people he probably shouldn’t is making him hard, and he puts a hand on himself through the panties, stroking idly.

Taylor has said before that she finds omega slick “disgusting.”

He sees precum dotting the front of his panties and quickly reaches for his Omega brand lube (It’s not dangerous, but other secondary genders may find it uncomfortable, since it’s designed to mimic the slick omegas naturally produce.) He flops down somewhat gracelessly, his ass in the air. Watching his reflection closely, he reaches inside his panties and applies the lube liberally to his ass, the sheer material going dark with it. He adds more until strings of it are drooling through the material and running down his thighs in streaks. Harry feels slightly ridiculous, but all the harder for it.

Taylor would never date an omega.

Harry’s cock is heavy with blood, and with how it’s throbbing he knows it’s at full heft. He’s aching to finish himself off, but with practiced control he forces himself still, opting instead to focus on his ass.

Taylor likes to get into people’s heads. Control them in a way that doesn’t involve flaunting her money or status. Find out how they tick, take them apart piece by piece, lain bare before her, and bask in her own work and ability to do so.

The danger with this method, though, is that exposing others leaves yourself equally exposed.

Harry knows that, for all her meanness, Taylor’s extremely vulnerable. His heart swells with affection at the thought.

When Harry cums, he imagines she’s the one gripping his knot.  
\---  
Taylor checks her doorbell’s video app when it rings, pleased to see Harry in a sheer, flowing top and lip gloss reflecting brightly back at the camera.

As usual, the alpha desire to provide kicked in and she’d ended up sending Harry a wardrobe full of clothing on impulse. Seeing Harry in it now is already making her hard and possessive.

“Come in.” she barks over the app.

Harry looks around for the source of the sound.

“It’s the doorbell, dummy.” Harry’s looking right at it now, getting comically close. “Just get inside, it’s open. Lock it behind you.”

Taylor hears the heavy click of the door as she looks down the staircase to where Harry is waiting at the bottom. “Did you do what I asked?”

Harry nods dutifully and starts to pull a plug out of the bag when Taylor stops him.

“No- no. Harry, I didn’t ask if you brought it, that isn’t what I asked you at all. Did you forget?”

Harry slumps a little, caught.

Taylor descends only far enough to be towering a foot over the other. “No, you didn’t forget, did you? You just chose not to do it.” Upon inspection, she can see the pink of Harry’s nipples peeking through the thin material of the shirt.

“I didn’t forget…”

“At least you’re honest. Do you remember what you are?”

“Yes.”

“Say it. Show me you remember.”

“I’m your… omega girlfriend.”

“That’s right, and why is my omega girlfriend here today?”

“Because of your rut-”

“Wrong.” Taylor kicks her in the crotch and she doubles over, trembling. Taylor edges the heel of her shoe into Harry’s shoulder. “Why is my omega girlfriend here today?”

“Because I’m…” She’s panting through the pain, Taylor is both excited and repulsed to see that Harry’s gotten hard as well. “Because I’m in heat.”

“You’re in heat, so you came crawling for my knot. Dumb slut, I’m surprised you even managed to remember who your alpha is.” Taylor lets a little personal venom seep into her tone. They had broken up before due to similar issues.

Harry doesn’t meet her gaze. Taylor clears her throat and continues, “Well, come on. Since you haven’t prepared yourself like I asked, we’re going to need to make sure I’m nice and wet, otherwise it’s never gonna fit.” Taylor grabs a fistful of her hair and leads her to her cock, thick and flushed from inattention, that’s peeking out from under her skirt. She grabs it with her free hand and smacks it a few times on Harry’s glossy mouth.

She gets to work earnestly, wetting the base and sides with her tongue, finally wrapping her lips around the sensitive tip. She’s leaving smears of pink shimmer where her lips make sloppy contact, cheeks hollowing with every draw backwards.

“Fuck, baby. You’re getting too good at that.” Taylor puts both hands on the back of her head and pushes deep inside, the tight squeeze of Harry’s throat almost enough to make her cum instantly. She doesn’t miss that Harry’s also got two hands on herself, one in front, and one behind. She tuts and pulls out, causing Harry to look up.

Besides Harry’s mouth, nothing would indicate she had just been deep-throating Taylor’s alpha cock. No tears. Maybe a little flushed, but nothing more. It’s irritating.

“You didn’t do it earlier, so don’t think you get to do it now. Give me your hands.”

She presents them properly, palm up, to her.

“Cute. Switch them, please.” She does, and now the hand that was on her ass is on top. Taylor digs around the worn, pink tote Harry’s brought, and pulls out a tawse. She gives her five hard smacks in quick succession and Harry lets out a tiny wail.

Taylor waits, and Harry switches them again, expecting, wanting five more smacks on the other side. Taylor makes no move to do so.

“Remember the next time you want this tawse that it’s been covered with your slick. It’s ruined for anything else now, much like you will be for any other alpha after you come on my knot.” She tosses the tawse on the ground next to Harry before turning and heading up the stairs. “Come.”

She hears Harry scrambling to collect herself, her things, before following quickly. She knows if she doesn’t she could get lost in this huge house. Taylor doesn’t put it past her.

When they arrive at their destination, Taylor turns on her suddenly, leaning back against a desk.

“Your office?”

“That’s right. I wanted you to take a look at it.” she plays with a sharp, wooden corner. “Do you think this would be safe for the pups?” Harry’s expression lolls slightly.

“Aren’t you in heat? Let’s take this off. Must be so hot for you.” Taylor eases the shirt over Harry’s head.

Harry moves to cover her nipples and Taylor catches her before she can do it.

“Shy? That’s a totally new emotion for you, slut. Gotta admit, first time seeing an omega shy in heat. Pretty weird.” Taylor flips them so Harry’s the one against the table, and puts a hand against the front of her pants. “Amazing specimen… So hard and big. Almost as big as mine. But no slick?” She quirks an eyebrow up at Harry. “You got your wires crossed bad, omega.”

Taylor opens one of the drawers, pulling out the bottle of omega enhancement oil.

Harry’s cock twitches.

“Are you going to put that on me?”

“Shut up.”

Taylor pushes her down so she’s flat and prone on the surface, papers and pens scattering to the floor as Harry flounders for something to hold onto.

She pours the oil directly onto Harry’s chest, and it must be cold, because she shivers a little bit. The smell is pleasant, and something about it goes straight to her groin. She ruts slowly against Harry below her.

With both hands Taylor rubs the oil into her clavicles, shoulders, and finally, against her scent glands. She adds a second round of oil and goes straight for the glands, leaving them soft and gleaming.

Both of their chests heave as they take in the scent. Within moments, Harry starts to struggle. She doesn’t mean to, Taylor knows, but there’s no denying your alpha desire to dominate, especially at the scent of an omega. Taylor keeps her down by the throat and yanks at her creamy slacks that fall easily to the floor.

She’s wearing a wine red pair of crotchless panties. Taylor spits on her and presses her tip to the entrance, rocking gently, teasing herself on it.

A familiar whimper pulls her out of her head. Harry’s eyes are shiny. “Taylor, please. In my bag, the cuffs... I don’t wanna fight anymore.”

Taylor feels a reflexive growl low in her throat, and turns Harry so that she can apply pressure to the back of her neck, scruffing her. She immediately goes limp in the hold. Taylor plants a kiss on her shoulder (Taylor’s always thought alphas must have invented lipstick, because the mark it leaves is so satisfying she could purr) before pulling the tote over, rifling until she feels the familiar cool and hard of metal.

She manages them with one hand somehow, Harry’s hands above her head, and releases the scruff. Harry’s body slowly regains its tautness, but is showing signs of alpha submission. Her eyes are downcast, and she’s baring her neck to Taylor.

The sight of it really does make Taylor purr.

“Good girl,” she coos, “Such a good girl.” Taylor grabs lube out of the open drawer and lets it drip down onto Harry’s ass. “Show me what an omega does when they want their alpha’s knot.”

Harry spreads her legs and presents as best as she can for being bent over a desk.

“I gotta be honest.” she says, running her hands down Harry’s back. “I’m relieved you’re an omega. Know why? Omegas were made for this,” she illustrates with a smooth stroke of her dick between Harry’s cheeks. “Betas or alphas couldn’t. Not without a little preparation. But this body was made to take me. For me to take.” She lines herself up, the tip slipping against the hole with every press. Taylor leans in and mouths at Harry’s neck. “If a beta or an alpha were to attempt what we’re about to do, I’d guess… that they find pleasure in pain.”

Harry doesn’t get a moment to respond, because Taylor is pushing then. She breaches the tight ring of muscle and groans with relief. Harry gives a short grunt of discomfort that’s transformed into a yell twisted with pain, because Taylor suddenly sinks the rest of her cock deep inside, stretching her completely open. Taylor lets herself go and cums, hips making short, subsequent jerks against Harry’s ass.

Taylor makes a satisfied noise and twists Harry’s hair around her fist at the base of her neck so that she can see the expression on her face. Her eyes are wide, still adjusting to the intrusion deep in her body.

“Can you feel my load in you? It’s a lot. I’m still coming.” It was true. Creampies from an alpha in rut were almost cartoonishly excessive, and they didn’t stop for almost a full minute. “This is… definitely going to make you pregnant, whether you like it or not.”

Taylor feels Harry clench around her at the mention of pups.

“Don’t worry, omega, I’m going to make sure this heat of yours is very successful.”

“I want it…”

“Want what?”

“I want the baby… I want your litter.”

Taylor grits her teeth with effort as she pulls out. “Workin’ on it.”

Usually cum needs time and gravity before it makes an appearance post-creampie, but Taylor’s is already coming out in spurts every time Harry contracts.

“Lucky for you, your heat jump-started my rut.” Taylor notices Harry’s body relax and moves to mend that, easing her still-hard cock back into her.

“Don’t get comfortable. You’re not done yet.” She sets a hard pace, each thrust punctuated by one of Harry’s small gasps.

“I’m close, alpha, I’m so close--”

“Do it. Cum.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming--” Harry’s reduced to an unintelligible thread of sounds, ass tightening intermittently. Taylor doesn’t stop, watching harry go wild underneath her. She can see Harry flexing with alpha desire. She knows well, what Harry’s body is screaming at her to do, every passing second spent denying it intensifying her alarm. Climaxing with another alpha, even one you trust, can be difficult. Letting another alpha dominate you with the thick scent of omega in the air is another story entirely.

Taylor slows. “Relax, baby, I haven’t even knotted you yet. If you can’t handle this how are you going to--”

“I can handle it,” Harry pants.

Taylor is quiet for a moment. “Okay,” she says, pulls out, and steps away.

Harry turns on her and in an instant Taylor feels the hot sting of the cuffs hitting her in the face. The blow sends her staggering backwards, into a plush, vintage couch behind them. Taylor shields her head and prepares for another blow but it doesn’t come.

Harry is standing where she left her, pain contorting her features. “I’m sorry, Taylor. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

She tastes it first, then feels it. Blood is dripping from her nose and she watches as it runs down her chest in rivulets to the the low-cut blouse she’s wearing.

Taylor stands up wordlessly and wipes her face with the discarded top Harry wore, smearing the blood and lipstick until she’s unrecognizable. She feels fine, but it could just be the adrenaline that’s now coursing through her.

“I want you on this couch.” She mentally reaches into the deep, instinctual part of her and pulls out an Order. “Sit.”

Harry curls in on herself a little as she does so.

Taylor takes her chin in hand and captures Harry’s lips in her own. She likes to imagine she's tasting the consequences of what she’s done.

“I’ll tell you now, I’m not mad.” She says simply. “Only wondering why you lied.”

Harry holds Taylor’s hands and rests her head in them appeasingly. “I’m sorry. I just wanted it so bad, I- I don’t know. I thought I could. I didn’t mean to.”

Taylor rubs a thumb over Harry’s cheek. “I forgive you. I figure it’s only fair since…” she rolls her shoulders and shrugs.

“Since what?” she asks, suddenly a lot more concerned.

Taylor grins wolfishly, eyes slit as the crux of her heat encroaches. “I’m going to make you bleed, too.”

Harry shudders. “Taylor…”

“Did you forget? When an alpha breeds her omega, she marks them.” Taylor ghosts her hand over the crook of Harry’s neck. “And when I can’t hold back any longer? I’m going to knot you, mark you, hold you down so you can’t run. Can’t risk losing you again. Gonna make you mine.” Taylor bends down and rubs her cheek against hers. “You’ll smell so claimed other alphas won’t even look at you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” Harry says a bit flatly.

Taylor pulls back and puts them eye-level to each other. “Damn right I would. Keep you barefoot in my kitchen.”

Harry blushes. “That’s like, a- that’s a stereotype. We’re not really like that.”

Taylor rolls her eyes and pushes Harry into the pillows. “Alright, princess. Lay down and let daddy fuck you until she knots.”

Harry stifles a laugh, ears red. “Oh my God, never say that again.”

Taylor giggles and rubs their noses together. “Yeah, that was pretty bad. Seriously though, lay down.”

“Yes, alpha.” Harry says in what is clearly her best omega-porn impression. It’s pretty spot-on, actually. Taylor thinks she might be practicing at home. Thinking about it is kind of hot.

Taylor loops Harry’s feet between her arms so that her hands are stuck behind her back. “I really can’t have you interfering this time.”

Once they’re situated, Taylor holds her legs apart, vocalizing her appreciation at the sight and committing it to memory for later. “Ready?”

Harry nods and Taylor wastes no time fucking the tip into her, working the rest in gradually. It’s the most tender she can ever recall being during a rut. Maybe the pregnancy talk is going to her head, or the pheromones are taking effect, because all Taylor wants to do in this moment is hold Harry close, stroke her hair, see her swollen with her children.

Taylor fucks her a little harder.

“Mm. You’d be such a good mommy.”

Harry makes a strangled noise.

Taylor lays a hand over Harry’s soft stomach, applying light pressure to keep her in place as her pace grows more and more erratic.

“Fuck, Harry, I’m getting there faster than I thought. Talk to me. What do you need from your alpha, baby?”

Harry’s eyes have taken on a particular glossiness that Taylor recognizes. “Mate me, please!”

“I’m going to. I’m going to.” Taylor sucks at Harry’s scent gland, and she struggles against her cuffs in response. “You don’t need your hands. Come on my knot.”

Harry angles her hips upward slightly and Taylor uses her last two brain cells to quickly throw a pillow underneath them, keeping a steady hand on Harry’s belly.

The new angle does the trick, and Harry’s gone nonverbal, eyes open but unfocused with her head thrown back.

Taylor buries her cock in to the hilt, feeling the familiar, secondary throbbing of her knot as it starts to inflate. Harry’s breathing is shallow and a little panicked.

She does it then, sinks her teeth into the soft curve of flesh her alpha canines have been aching for. A warm burst of blood fills her mouth, and Taylor huffs through her nose.

Finally, Taylor’s hips stutter and she’s coming. The knot is such that she can no longer pull out. Harry’s struggle has ended, and she’s completely still.

“Cum.” Taylor Orders, and she does.  
\---  
Harry knew extricating himself from Taylor was going to be difficult, especially during post-rut, when her jealousy and paranoia was at its worst.

They’d slept all night in each others arms. Once during the night he tried to slip away while she was sleeping and it ended with mostly sex, but also some marks and bruises even he considers a little excessive. She tried hiding his clothes while he showered, leaving only a lacy suggestion of barely-there lingerie on the bathroom counter to prevent his departure.

About 48 hours after her rut-haze, the possessiveness ebbed (exactly how much was rut, he wasn’t sure. She was always sort of like that,) and she bids him a hesitant goodbye.

When Taylor gives him one last hug, she doesn’t let go until he’s well past the awkward back-pat stage and starting in on the subtle-cough method. She’s unrushed, but takes the hint and after a moment pulls away.

“Thank you Harry. For everything.”

He doesn’t know how to respond so he just dips his head submissively, flashing traces of her “marks” on his neck (alpha-alpha bonding is quite complicated and doesn’t actually involve marking, but he’s going for an effect and it seems to soothe her somewhat.)

“Hey!” she calls after him as he’s slipping into the driver’s seat of a rental car. She crosses her arms over chest, stalling. “If you’re actually pregnant with my pups, you better come back to me.”

He laughs. “What will your girlfriend think?”

Taylor growls. “I’m serious.”

Harry just stares. “Okay. Bye, Taylor.”

“Bye, Harry.”

Harry pulls out of the driveway, checking to make sure the panties he got fucked in are safely stored in a sealed plastic bag. The omega that’s been fucking him is going to lose his mind over the potency of Taylor and his combined scents.

Harry licks his lip imagining it.


End file.
